Frankenstein's Diary
by Daring Dashwood
Summary: A series of short journal entries Victor had written while creating his 'monster'.


Frankenstein's Diary

Summary: A short series of journal entries written by Victor that lead up to creating his 'monster'. Written for language arts class months back.

* * *

June 15

I find that I simply cannot put into words how enthralled I am at this great and overwhelming discovery. At first I was astonished and surprised that among the many men of genius before and alongside me who had directed their inquiries as well towards the same science that only I alone, Victor Frankenstein, was chosen to discover such an astonishing secret of giving life to an inanimate object.

At first I had hesitated, questioning myself on how I should employ my newfound power of creation. Although I most certainly possessed the capacity if bestowing animation in a non living being, preparing a frame, with all its intricacies of fibers, muscles, organs, and veins was most certainly no simple matter, which would surely induce a work of unconceivable difficulty and ferocious labor. I contemplated creating a being of lesser form, but my imagination and enthusiasm were in full bloom, glowing like a lone bright firework in the dark night sky. Why, there was no creature on this Earth that is as complex and intricate as man!

I am fully aware that for the next few months, years even, that they will be spent in painful and agonizing labor, my hopes and desires vanquished and receding into the outer depths of my mind, possibly never to be called upon or seen again. Yet, I worry not, for to arrive at the summit of my mountainous labors was by far the most gratifying consummation of my toils.

--

July 15

It is at this time that I have completed my collection of necessary materials for creating human life.

For the past month, I have occupied my time by locating and hiring a grave robber, who goes by the name Vladimir Romanald. This sly, shady dark haired man, who is of Russian descent, has been secretly been transporting my objects of need to me and leaving no trace to follow behind him.

I know what a dismal business this is, yet how joyfully will my marvelous creations-for I plan on making more than one, I would never leave it alone-cry, and what a jubilant feeling will erupt from my bosom!

As I begin to piece together bit by bit my masterpiece, I have resolved that the vessel shall be eight in length, for making a being of my own size proved to be far too tedious; for stitching in such a diminutive area resulted in far too many errors-causing a howl of frustration to erupt from me, which is most certainly much out of my normal, compassionate, and dare I say charming character.

The resulting of my predicament caused me to venture out into human society to get the bank wherein all my paper currency was being stored for a later use.

My outer appearance was only slightly ruffled-a few strands of hairy astray, clothes slightly crumpled as if I had slept in them (which I did)-so no person stared oddly or questioned my motives as I gave my name to the bank clerk, who busied herself with locating my money as I leaned on the counter; my outer appearance one of boredom. However, inside my heart pounded loudly in my rib cage, surging with ecstasy and merriment at how close I was to finally staring my miracle like project.

I was abruptly brought back to reality when the plump female clerk handed my a fairly large amount of cash-causing passerbys to avert their eyes and walk hurriedly away or gawk, as if they assumed I was either the son of a wealthy merchant or a criminal who obtained the money illegally.

Ignoring all of those around me, I thanked the clerk and pocketed the currency as I headed back toward my relatively large apartment. I waited several days for Vladimir to once again return to answer my illegal needs. I at once filled the Russian in on my future plans for my creation; and was delightedly surprised to find that instead of an angry retort for learning that everything he collected for me thus far was a waste, instead he nodded animatedly, eager to complete the challenge which I had bestowed upon him.

And now, I close this entry, for my excitement knows no boundaries, and now that everything is ready for me to embark on this journey, so to speak, it is roaring in my chest, demanding to burst forth and make me stop wasting my time writing when I could already have stitched together the right arm of my creation. On that note, I have completed my second entry.

--

August 15

Dear God, what has happened to me?! I can recall working on this project with such fervent zeal and ardor, and now, my human nature, my true _being _is so incredibly repulsed with what I have created thus far, so much that I was extremely tempted to take my scalpel in the middle of joining the right arm with the torso and hack and slash the thing to pieces-to at last be rid of the foul beast and give my abused mind peace.

Even the small quantity of sleep I somehow manage to obtain is plagued and tormented by nightmares most foul; consisting of the being I created, the repugnant, grotesque creature destroying everything its cruel, malicious eyes laid themselves on.

And yet, even through this torment, even though my consciousness is pleading with me to cease this madness, I cannot. I have immersed myself too deep-the forbidden fruit has already been bitten, and cannot be resisted after having a taste.

On a different note, already there have been a multitude of errors on my part. My wrist might tremble slightly, which led to the vein or artery that I had been meticulously inserting to go astray, at which point I had to redo all the progress I had made thus far on it, which, obviously, can be quite irksome at (most) times.

I am berating myself as I write these words on this paper. Who else but me, the creator of this monstrosity, will read these notes? Other scientists attempting to learn the same field of knowledge? No, I will _not _permit them to suffer in the same ways as I have and will, good God no!

Why am I acting as Charles did in "Flowers for Algernon", writing petty 'Progress Reports' for the doctors' benefits?!

Alas, my report has been reduced to trivial rants. Before I get out of hand, I shall end this entry.

September 15

I cannot describe in words the mere _loathing _and contempt that is coursing through my veins, neigh, my every fiber of my _being _at what is commencing in this very laboratory!

The miserable wretch that I am creating is about seventy percent completed. All that remains to finish is the left arm and the head, which contains the most vital part of the human body, the brain.

The brain that Vladimir has so kindly provided me with is of standard size, no huge creases in the brain that only a pure genius manages to obtain. The Russian claimed that it was the brain of a recently deceased old man who went by the name of William Shatner. Somehow, Vladimir had obtained the cranium from the nearby hospital. Not surprisingly, the brain was still very fresh, as if it had only been dead for several days.

I shall stall no longer in my work, for the fresher the items are, the better.

--

October 15

I managed to catch a glimpse of myself in a small mirror in my lab, and was incredulous at the image with which it presented me. My skin pallor alarmed me, for I can recall that I used to be lightly tanned. Now the rosiness is gone from my cheeks, in its place is a deathly pale similar to that of a zombie. The reason behind this is that I haven't allowed even a miniscule sliver of sunlight to penetrate my workplace, and I have resided in my laboratory for several months now. I am dark of face; all remnants of cheerfulness gone from my being. My eating habits have drastically declined-I rarely partake in even one meal a day, causing my clothes to become lose and baggy around my weak and feeble form. It also appears that of late I have been so busy in my occupation that I have not allowed myself sufficient rest. There a dark circles around the bottom of my eyes, and my eyes themselves are bloodshot and restless.

Time was one thing I had never fretted about, but now it is of the essence. I fear mine is severely limited.

--

October 30

All my past feelings of wariness and abhorrence have abandoned me. Now, in its place, all I feel is the same delight and bliss which I possessed in the beginning of this 'journey'.

All the veins, limbs, etc. are in place. The only thing that remains is for me to bequeath animation in the vessel. Note that I write this hurriedly, for I wish to complete my project swiftly, so please excuse the horrendous and nearly illegible handwriting.

As excited as I am at how incredibly close I am to creating a miracle, part of me feels a tinge of regret for not writing to my family and Clerval. Surely they are concerned with my sudden absence and receiving no letters for all of the summer and well into the fall?

They have most likely sent letters, but I dare not leave my laboratory. I fear that they might plan to travel to Ingolstadt? My elderly and enfeebled father would not be able to endure such a voyage, and Elizabeth surviving as well was very doubtful. Perhaps they would send Clerval, in hope that he could find and aid me? No, no one can help me complete this task which has been bestowed upon me, and I do not wish for him to visit me in such a revolting state.

I bade farewell to Vladimir today. His astounded face did not surprise me, and he gripped my shoulders so hard he left bruises and exclaimed, "Dear Victor, in all my voyages, no one I've ever laid eyes on has been this much of a wreck! What has happened to put you in such a state?!"

Unsure of how to reply, I merely shook my head sadly and shut the door with a soft click and turned away. That was the last time I saw Vladimir Romanald.

--

November 13

I have no time to explain, but it has been done. By the glimmer of a half extinguished candle light, I saw the dull yellow eye of the beast open, it writhed on the ground and breathed heavy.

How can I describe my motions at this huge catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch who with such infinite pains and care I had endeavored to form?

I sought my bed for comfort, but none came. I dreamed Elizabeth came to Ingolstadt, and when I greeted her the monster came up behind her and wrung her neck before I could move a muscle to stop it.

As I awoke in a cold sweat the monster stared at me, with his eyes, if eyes they may be called, and a malicious grin broke out on his face. He might've spoken, I wasn't listening, and he stretched one giant yellow scaled hand out to me.

I yelled and toppled over the other side of the bed, and took refuge in the courtyard until the early hours of the morning, and at that point, I did the only thing that I could think of.

I ran.


End file.
